


Loki is a Bratty, Irritating Sub That Gets Exactly What He Wants

by dendrite_blues



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: BDSM, Bondage and Discipline, Bratting, Breathplay, Cock & Ball Torture, Consensual Kink, Daddy Kink, Dom Tony Stark, Dom/sub, Domspace/Topspace, Explicit Consent, Face Slapping, Face-Fucking, Impact Play, Liberal use of the phrase "good boy", Light Sadism, M/M, Masochism, Mild Painplay, Orgasm Control, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Overstimulation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Possessive Behavior, Restraints, Rough Body Play, Rough Sex, Safe Sane and Consensual, Safewords, Sexual Roleplay, Shameless Smut, Smart Ass Masochist Loki, Sorry Not Sorry, Spanking, Sparring, Strapping, Sub Loki (Marvel), Subspace, Vibrators, Wrestling, bondage tape
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-04
Updated: 2019-01-19
Packaged: 2019-06-21 14:14:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15559521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dendrite_blues/pseuds/dendrite_blues
Summary: Sometimes Loki likes to play games to get Tony's attention. Sometimes it works. Sometimes it gets his ass beat. He doesn't seem to mind either outcome.-"What was I saying?" Tony asks himself, intending to set the mood with a one-sided conversation, but Loki answers during his dramatic pause."You were discussing the merits of my disrespectful attitude." he says, tone prim and playful despite laying face down, ass up on a table with his hands tied behind his back.





	1. Kink: Over stimulation, Orgasm Play, Impact Play

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fic contains some Old Norse, translations will appear if you hover over the foreign words. If you are reading on mobile, this feature will not work. The end note has a list of translations for mobile users. Plot relevent phrases are translated in context or in italics.

Loki’s in a real special mood today.

Nanobot tests are going well, and Tony can tell he is in the midst of a breakthrough when Loki wanders into his lab and starts touching stuff. Stuff Tony knows Loki knows is expensive and dangerous. Stuff Tony has to tell him off for messing with. Then he starts asking condescending questions while Tony’s attempting to build a steel plate out of microscopic robots. He answers patiently, because this trial is weeks of work finally coming together and he means to finish it. Then Loki starts intentionally dropping things and fiddling with the buttons on his charcoal cardigan. And Tony decides he’s had enough.

That’s how they end up in this situation, a couple floors down in the guest apartment that has not held guests other than he and Loki for at least two years. Tony refuses to call it a playroom or a dungeon or any other ridiculous kink term, but he supposes with the new bondage friendly furniture it is starting to look like one.

He has Loki’s arms bent behind him and bondage taped because it’s quick and Tony is not looking to draw this out. Clearly Loki needs something from him and Tony isn’t about to leave him hanging, but seriously now is not a good time. He strips Loki bare and sits him on a wooden stool, alternating between jacking him off and smacking his ass in a way that has him coming in minutes. He looks good like that, pulling on his bindings and nearly bucking off the stool to get more of Tony’s hand. Even rushing through the motions he can see the appeal in it. That and the way Loki lays slack in Tony’s arms when he’s finished.

“Better?” Tony asks, maybe fishing for a compliment. His partner tends to be uncharacteristically flattering when he’s swimming in endorphins. But, of course, Loki’s in a special mood.

“Is that all?” he pants, his bound arms forcing his back into an arch and exaggerating the rapid in and out movement of his breathing.

Tony takes a second to wonder if Loki really just said that, and to process the flicker of indignation running up his gut that is undoubtedly Loki’s goal. For the most part he thinks he ought to let that drop, because Loki is trying to manipulate him and that pretty much defies the purpose of this exercise. Best to leave him hanging and let disappointment teach the lesson. But then again, says the increasingly persuasive dominant part of his brain, wouldn’t it be more fun to put him in his place? People in bindings shouldn’t throw gauntlets, after all.

Tony drags another stool from the corner and sits in front of Loki, watches him come down and enjoys the sight of his rosy, freshly abused nipples. Once Loki’s eyes are a little more focused and his face does that trying-not-to-look-smug thing that Tony loves, he hooks his boot around the foot rest of Loki’s stool and drags him closer.

“It seems we’re having an issue with gratitude today.” Tony says, an idea forming.

“Oh?” Loki replies, casual. Like he isn’t flushed, tied up, and getting hard again.

“Well, when someone does something nice for you,” Tony explains, “usually they expect you to thank them.”

“You like when I’m disrespectful.” Loki grins. Challenges, really.

“I like making you regret your disrespect.” he corrects, walking behind him to wrap a hand around his neck. Not hard enough to restrict, just a statement. Loki presses into his hand.

Tony has to laugh at that, because it’s such a phenomenally stupid idea to egg him on. He pulls his hand way.

“I think you want me to hurt you today.” Tony says. Checking in. Veiled negotiating.

“Are you going to?” Loki asks mildly, which means yes.

Tony laughs again, and walks to the closet. No clothes in this one, apart from a couple of spare shirts and pants for when things get messy. Nobody actually lives here, it’s just a place to go where the team won’t hear Loki lose his shit. And Tony too, sometimes. They don’t have that much paraphernalia. He likes to use his hands and new toys beyond the standard fair make Loki the bad kind of nervous. So they’ve gone slow. Everything fits in two drawers.

Looking at the options, he decides he’s definitely not hurting Loki yet. Too easy. It would be too much like allowing him to top from the bottom. Still, if he wants to suffer it is Tony’s job to make him. He picks up the Hitachi vibrator wand and lubes it up.

Loki’s fidgeting when Tony returns, his fingers playing at the edge of the tape on his arms. Tony stands behind him again, puts his hand on Loki’s throat and feels him smile into the squeeze. Yeah, they’ll see how long that lasts. Loki jumps when Tony digs the vibe into his balls. Gives Tony a surprised moan and rocks his hips.

“I think I’ve figured out our problem.” Tony grunts in Loki’s ear, squeezing his neck for emphasis and holding steady against his struggling.

“How does that feel?” Tony asks.

“It’s good, sir. I like it-”

“I know you do. It’s your favorite.” Tony says, moving the vibrator just slightly up and down and feeling Loki tremble.

“I can’t punish you with pain. You like it too much.” Tony explains, “So we’re gonna go the other way. You’re going to wish you got whipped when I’m done with this wand.”

“Feels good-” Loki mumbles, arching.

“Yeah.” Tony says, “I want it to feel good, because in a minute I’m gonna count down and if you don’t come before I reach zero we start over again.”

Loki’s eyes look at him with apprehension and Tony can’t help the ripple of twisted satisfaction. He takes Loki’s mouth in an invading kiss, sucking on his tongue and kneading his lips with his teeth. He slides a tight fist down Loki’s cock and breaks away. Meets Loki’s half closed eyes with a cool stare.

“Five.” Tony says.

“What? No! I’m not, I’m not ready-”

“Four. Three.”

“I can’t.” Loki begs, but he tries anyway, thrusting down. Tony slaps his inner thigh hard and Loki mewls at the sting.

“You know how I feel about that word.” Tony growls. Loki’s movements turn rough, but he can’t make himself peak.

“I’m trying-” Loki says, almost falling off the stool from thrashing.

“Try harder.” Tony says. “Two.”

“Please, sir, please. More time…” Loki whines, and Tony holds for half a second, makes him wonder.

“One.” Tony says, his pants getting tight at the angry, betrayed look on Loki’s face when the orgasm doesn't land. He rips the toy away.

Loki yelps pitifully, his hips fucking air while his arms pull at the restraints. He’s not smiling now, Tony notes with wry amusement. Hauling him up by a hand on his taped forearms, Tony walks him to a padded table across the room. He’d rather not have to hold Loki in his chair for the next hour, and it’s clear he can’t do it himself much longer. The bed would be more comfortable, but Tony doesn’t feel like fumbling around on a mattress.

Loki cooperates well enough as Tony maneuvers him onto his knees and pushes him to lay forward on his shoulders, his ass in the air and cock heavy between his legs. He looks good in any position, but this one is particularly nice. His lithe build makes his lower ribs jut out from the angle of his back and the harsh overhead light shows off his wiry muscles and the small divots over his butt. Tony runs his hand down the line of his spine and Loki shivers, licks his lips.

He makes him wait until his breathing is normal, and then retrieves the vibrator from the stool. Skin prickling, he feels Loki’s eyes tracking him, so he puts a little more power in his posture. Plays the part. This is a game after all, it should be fun for Loki even when Tony’s putting him through his paces.

“What was I saying?” Tony asks himself, aiming to set up the next round with a mocking one-sided conversation. Loki answers though, which tells him they might be here a while.

“We were discussing the merits of my disrespectful attitude.” Loki says, his tone playful and provocative despite his undignified pose and dripping cock.

“Thank you, Loki. That wasn’t at all rhetorical.” Tony rolls his eyes, tapping the head of the wand on his shoulder pointedly as he saunters back to Loki’s side.

“You’re welcome, sir.” Loki says primly, shifting his weight on his shoulders so his ass wiggles in the air. He doesn’t quite pass it off as an unconscious gesture, but it’s a good try. It makes Tony want to swat him and tell him to stay still, but that’s what Loki wants him to do so he resists the urge. Down that road lay further taunting and probably some Time Out, which is no fun for anyone.

“Right, so, gratitude.” Tony says, “When someone is accustomed to getting whatever they want, they tend to take what they have for granted.”

Standing over his partner, he presses the Hitachi to the base of Loki’s cock and shoves his cheek into the table so he can’t help but drool a little. Looks down with an assessing expression that he’s learned Loki can’t read very well. Loki moans at the return of pleasure to his sensitized skin and licks Tony’s palm where it covers his mouth. Tony ignores it.

“For example,” he continues, guiding the vibrator down Loki’s cock, back up to his balls, and then turns it up a notch. Loki shivers. “You like this, right? Usually you get this when you’re good, don’t you?”

“Yes, sir.” Loki pants, hips jerking to get the toy further down his cock where he’s more sensitive. Tony holds it tight to his sack, keeps it where he wants it.

“I don’t have time to hold this on your dick all day. If you want to come, then you have to work around my schedule.” Tony says, honestly just killing time until Loki’s close enough to turn the pleasure into its own kind of torment.

“Well you are rather hard to isolate.” Loki bitches. It’s a little too real for Tony’s liking. He steps away without warning and leaves Loki panting on the table, glaring at him.

“I’m here aren’t I?” Tony says, a little offended, even more exasperated.

There’s playful riling and then there’s actual disrespect. Loki’s getting awfully close to the line where Tony has no choice but to give him a real punishment. One that he doesn’t enjoy and will leave him properly penitent instead of this wink-wink, just for fun shit.

The distinction took Tony a while to understand, but now it's just an everyday hazard of trying to keep a smart-ass masochist in check. Thankfully Loki straightens up his posture, and Tony relaxes. It’s nice to see Loki acknowledge a boundary. Weirdly it’s these moments that settle Tony in real life, more so than the scenes themselves. Moments where Loki recognizes a line that neither of them want to cross. Of him backing down when he realizes he can ruin the fun for both of them if he’s careless. That basic level of care and respect is a rather large point of personal growth for him.

“Sorry, sir.” Loki murmurs.

“That’s better.” Tony says gently, petting Loki’s sweaty hairline and easing them back into character. “Are you ready to be good for me?”

“No.” Loki says with daring eyes, and Tony smiles at the honesty.

“Okay.” he says, returning the vibrator to Loki’s balls, “We can fix that.”

He rubs a little too hard with the toy, and jacks Loki off fast with his other hand. Steals his breath.

“Oh yes sir-“ Loki gasps, grinding even harder, looking for that edge of pain he seems so hungry for. Maybe there is a bit more genuine need behind this outburst then he initially thought. Tony adjusts his plans. He lets go of Loki’s cock when he starts shivering and fucking his fist. Digs his nails into raw nipples instead and gets a high pitched cry for his trouble. Loki’s nips are sensitive, and he can never seem to decide if he likes Tony hurting them or not.

“Don’t come.” Tony reminds him.

“I’m close.” Loki says as a smear of precome drips onto the table.

“Don’t come.” Tony says more firmly.

“Aren’t you going to start counting?” Loki asks a little desperately.

“Thought you didn’t want to obey?” Tony teases.

“I don’t want to disobey.” Loki gasps, and the distinction between obeying and not disobeying strikes him as worthy of a reward. A little mercy.

“Five.”

“Yes, yes, yes, yes-“

“Four.”

“Oh, I don’t need that many-“

Tony pulls away. “I said five, and I meant five. If you want to monopolize my time, then you'll use every second.”

“No! Put it back. Put it back, sir, I almost-”

“Don't tell me what to do, brat, I'm the one in charge here.”

Loki goes a bit mad. He pulls at his bound arms and arches his back in a vicious lurch, cursing and spewing insults until the arousal abates. Tony really has spoiled him if all it takes to piss him off is a couple of aborted orgasms. He doesn’t mind though, because Loki suffers beautifully. He writhes and shouts and flops on the table like a spoiled child until eventually the mood passes and he tries to hide his face in the cushion.

“Get your fucking lazy ass back up.” Tony orders, distantly observing himself getting into his own space. Getting rougher and growing stiff in his underwear. “You want my toy back?”

“Yes please, please, I'm sorry, I'll be good.” Loki babbles.

“Say thank you, brat.” he growls, and this time, when he returns his hands and vibrations Loki holds still and takes it. He's lovely like that, not pushing back or fighting, just accepting his fate. Either it's enough and he comes or it isn't and he gets to try again. Now if only he could get his mouth on board with his body’s new plan to cooperate. Tony gets off on that inner battle, because it's him making Loki do this, making him take this twisted agonizing kind of pleasure until his mind and body rebel.

Loki growls, “Oh, oh, more please, need more.”

“Say thank you or I take it away.”

“More.” Loki demands, meeting his eyes with a dreadful torn apart look, like he’s powerless to stop the nonsense coming out of his mouth. Like he urgently wants to obey but he just can't. He isn't there yet. Tony pulls away, regretful, and waits for Loki to battle through the disappointment and helpless, uncontrollable rage his body unleashes.

“You appreciate it now, don't you?” Tony says with a cruel edge, trying to help him, to push him over, “Now that you know I can take it away, don't you want to be my good little boy?”

He presses the toy to Loki’s slit while his other hand twists hard at his nipples. Yeah he's definitely slipping into top space. His body sings with a dizzying rush of power as he tugs the vibe away.

“Say yes, Loki. Show me what a good boy you are.”

“Please.” Loki yells, bucking uncontrollably on nothing. His legs start shaking with the effort of holding himself up. “Please, Tony.”

“We’ll sit here all day if that’s what it takes for you to give me what I want.” Tony says. It isn't the threat that it sounds like, it's an assurance. This isn't a game that Loki can lose, or a test he can fail. He can let go, and one way or another Tony will make sure he gets what he needs. Loki's body goes still for a moment, and then his tight muscles unclench in a steady creep from his shoulders down to his feet.

“Thank you, thank you…” Loki whispers, as his knees give out. He slumps, resting his legs so his hips are on the table and grinds lazily. Tony taps his thigh and he stops, looks up at him with a dazed expression. Tony shakes his head no, and Loki whimpers, complies. Tony slides two fingers in Loki’s mouth and he hums around them, sucking gently with his pretty, chewed up lips.

“That’s it, beautiful, you just lay there. I’m gonna take what I want out of you. Don’t you worry.” Tony whispers, “You just suck on those fingers and we’ll see how good you can be.”

Loki moans what might be a yes sir and licks sweetly at the webbing between his fingers. Tony loves him like this, when he’s overcome his stubbornness but he’s still aware. Still insecure and afraid to disappoint. He puts the toy on the highest setting and maneuvers it under Loki’s hips, presses it up and allows Loki to rock on it. Fucks Loki’s mouth with his fingers and slaps his face.

“Say thank you, brat, show me what a good boy looks like when he's coming on my toys.” he says. Loki howls his unintelligible response and gags when Tony plows his fingers back down his throat.

“Are you ready?” he asks, because Loki is growing fragile and he thinks they need to succeed soon, before he breaks something in Loki’s head that he isn't supposed to. Loki quivers, kicks his feet, and rolls his hips hard on the silicone head of the wand. Looks like a yes to Tony.

“Five.” he starts again. “Four.”

“Oh.” Loki shouts, stuttering his thrusts as a strong spike of pleasure racks him.

“Do it. Come for me.” Tony pushes. “Three.”

“Tony-“

“Now, brat, I’m tired of waiting on you.”

“Oh fuck.” Loki shouts, moaning around Tony’s fingers and closing his eyes. Tony pulls the fingers out and covers his nose and mouth. Cuts off his air while the last second passes. Truthfully he gives Loki an extra couple of moments because he really is almost on time, and they’ve accomplished the goal. Loki wants to cooperate now.

“One.” Tony says, and Loki comes, cracks open and just pours his soul on the table. His legs tremble and twitch as waves of pleasure roll through him and shoot out his cock in harsh spurts, and Tony keeps the vibe right where it is. Drives him higher and higher and doesn't relent. After the brunt of the orgasm subsides Loki tries to crawl away but Tony follows him, keeps the toy on his over-sensitive skin until Loki starts crying out in an entirely different way.

“Too much, I finished-“ he begs, almost incomprehensible around his shrieks of discomfort.

“You’re done when you thank me.” Tony corrects, his own cock twitching at Loki’s pitiful noises, his half-hearted attempts to escape the sensation.

“Please, please, Tony-“ Loki screams, as tears start escaping his eyes and he writhes under Tony’s hand on his neck. He could throw Tony off easily, but he doesn’t want to. The proof that he can leave and doesn’t helps Tony enjoy it. He’s still cautious about his sadistic streak, feels like there must be something fucked up in his head for him to be this hard while he’s tormenting someone. But the waves of pleasure battering him with every flinch and cry can’t be denied, they go right to his head and his dick and make him feel invincible, fantastic.

"Nei." Loki moans, "Nei, nei standa."

Ah, they’ve hit the Old Norse part of Loki’s subspace. That’s normally flogger territory. Tony mentally pats himself on the back and tries to recall the handful of phrases he knows. Tries not to cringe at his horrible Aesir and ruin the scene.

“Á sér sitja. Thank me.” Tony says evenly, wrapping his mouth around the foreign syllables with deliberate care. Loki’s laughed himself out of subspace a million times over a mispronounced word or a slurred syllable that turned something sexy into something ridiculous. He must say everything right, because Loki continues wailing and spilling tears as he spits out the phrase Tony’s been waiting for all night.

“Þakka fyrir. Fyrirgef mik.” Loki mumbles. _Thank you. I’m sorry._

Tony turns off the vibrator and works it out from under Loki’s dead weight. Runs a hand down Loki's spine and back up to graze through his hair. No one would ever call him conventionally beautiful. He's no Brat Pitt, but to Tony he's fucking gorgeous. A vicious, merciless soul contained in wiry muscles and smooth, pale skin. He's beautiful like a sports car or a katana. Attractive for the things he can do as much as the angles of his form. For his shameless, uncompromising pursuit of everything he wants. Tony cups Loki's cheek and turns his head so he can look in his eyes. 

“Can you feel your arms?” he asks. Loki mumbles something incomprehensible, and Tony smacks his ass. That gets his attention. Even if his body instinctively fights the pain, Loki’s mind gets off on proving how unbreakable he is. He looks confused. Pulls at his arms and gets this perplexed look like he somehow forgot he had limbs. Tony decides that’s reason enough to unbind them, but when he starts peeling up the tape Loki fights.

“Nei, nei.” Loki whispers into the table.

"Láta sér líka, þarf. I’ll tie you again. We need to check.” Tony says softly. He hopes he never has to speak Asgardian in a public setting because he only knows the bad words and the closest translations to kinky words, which really doesn’t make for a great first impression.

Holding still, Loki allows Tony to unwind the tape and unfold his arms. They’re stiff, and it takes a minute to ease them back into normal movement. He has Loki imitate a few hand signals, and once he’s satisfied everything is in working order he wraps his wrists together in the front, tight.

“Better?” Tony asks.

“Gør þú svá vel.” Loki whispers. _Please. Polite, offering, formal tense._

“Ok.” Tony says, powerless to such a flawless appeal. He picks Loki up and walks to the bed, sets him down and builds up a pile of pillows under his hips so his ass is on display. It’s still pink from earlier, but only faintly. Nothing stays on Loki’s skin long. It’s a shame. Even really brutal stuff like whips and canes barely make it longer than a day.

Tony rubs at the inflamed cheeks and Loki spreads wide, hums in the back of his throat in the way that made Tony fall in love with him in the first place. He’s pliant now, completely trusting, and it’s worth all the bullshit Loki puts him through just to know that he earned this right, he’s worthy. There can't have been many others that understood Loki well enough to get this perfect, obedient little boy at their feet, so hungry and eager to please.

He's absolutely starved for this kind of attention, will do anything to get more of it. Before their odd arrangement, Loki got his kicks from actual fights with people who wanted to hurt him. Tony hates to think what that must do to a person. He is so glad that he saw the taunts for what they were. That he figured out Loki's gambit before he fell for the trick and harmed this beautiful, complicated person.

He means to go pick a tool to work Loki over, but his balls are bright red from the vibrator and Tony can’t help but wrap his fingers around them and squeeze. Loki makes an intoxicating, conflicted moan and Tony has to stroke himself through his slacks. His underwear is damp against his cock, and getting worse with each of Loki’s gasping breaths. He’s gorgeous, holding perfectly still and inhaling through fear, pain, and crashing endorphins. Tony gives his balls a sudden, cruel twist and Loki yelps, his legs clenching and his dick swelling against the white pillowcases. Then he buries his face in his bound wrists and sobs, dips his back so his ass is more available, pleading for Tony to do whatever he wants.

“More.” he sobs, “More.”

How Loki can be that stubborn to submit when he’s such a sucker for pain Tony doesn’t know. If it gave him the same high it does Loki, he would spend half his life on his knees begging. He really only meant to get Loki off and get back to work, but here he is waffling between the strap and the flogger.

“Do you want it deep or stinging?” he asks, running a hand over Loki’s ass and giving a few starting swats. He is already warmed up so the hits come off soft and he sighs, lets out a shy noise.

“Holr lófi.” he mumbles into his hands, and Tony feels heat come up his face. Loki always asks for his hand if Tony gives him the option. It’s confusing, because he pretty frequently accuses Tony of going easy on him, complains that his hand isn’t hard enough. And yet Loki always asks for it. Tony thinks he just likes the skin contact.

“That’s not what I asked you.” he says, and lands his first real hit, a solid smack to Loki’s left cheek that makes him squirm and bite the sheets. It’s a satisfying sound, and it brings a reciprocal blood rush to Tony’s hand that feels pleasantly warm, so he matches it on the right. Follows that with a few fast, heavy blows on alternating sides and Loki moans, bites one of his fingers to keep quiet. Tony reaches over the mound of pillows and places Loki’s arms in front of him. Runs a hand up his cheek to wrap and pull hard on his hair.

“Answer me.”

“Deep, Tony.” he says reverently, his voice gravelly from speaking through a stretched throat. Tony rewards him with a searching kiss that’s all tongue and teeth. It’s amazing, intense and lazy at the same time. When they pause for air he scrapes his nails hard over Loki’s scalp, and jerks him back for more kissing and more scratching. Loki keens. He loves feeling owned, used for Tony’s pleasure. They've had a lot of talks about it. Tony has to pull himself away before they get completely sidetracked.

“Stay.” Tony says, and returns to the closet to fetch the strap. They’ve only got one of most things, which he’s sure would surprise the internet if their kinky sex habits ever made it in the tabloids. Loki is surprisingly incurious, he just wants familiar things to relax into, and so the strap is easy to find. It’s basic. Black leather, ten inches, dragon heartstring, good for taming magical creatures. Tony brings the strap down on his forearm and winces, enjoys the cracking noise and the slight whistle of air when it swings. This ought to do.

Spacing out with a content sort of smile, Loki looks less like he’s about to get his ass beaten and more like he’s a few days into a beach vacation. His eyes are closed, his mouth relaxed open and blowing the tips of his long hair with rhythmic exhales. Floating.

He cranes his neck when Tony approaches, twists to see what he's holding and Tony slaps his thigh for that. Gently, because it’s not exactly against the rules. He likes seeing Loki react, so he doesn’t make him sit still or act serious unless it’s part of the scene or there’s a safety reason. Tony can control him all he wants outside the guest room. When they’re here he wants Loki as real as possible. No protocol.

He can’t help but chuckle at the complacent look on Loki’s face. They’ve successfully banished his defiant brat persona for the time being, so this look is genuine arrogance. He thinks he's too tough to break under an innocuous little scrap of leather. A shiver of anticipation gets the better of Tony at that, because that's just so naive. Loki never gives the little tools the respect they deserve, and he really enjoys humbling him. It’s basically a Loki specific kink. He doesn’t think he’d enjoy it nearly as much with anyone else, but there’s something uniquely satisfying about reducing this snotty, uncooperative prince to a tear-stained martyr. Petting Loki’s reddening ass, he squeezes the developing splotches and scratches down with his nails.

He rubs the strap over the raised skin, irritating it with the rough stitched edges and allowing Loki to imagine the blow for a few seconds before raising it up.

“What’s your safeword?” Tony asks, because this is one instance where it’s really fucking necessary. When he’s hurting, Loki’s entire vocabulary consists of the words ‘no’ and ‘please.’ His self-reported best orgasm ever happened while taking a paddling on Tony’s lap and literally screaming at him to stop. So the safeword is fucking necessary.

“Jotunheim.” Loki says with an uncharacteristic lack of sass or sarcasm. The straight forward answer makes Tony very, very proud of him. There was a long period of time in their relationship where Loki point blank wasn’t capable of that.

“Good boy.” he says, and lays a heavy hit across Loki’s pink ass. It’s far from full strength, but it’s a solid strike and it knocks the breath out of Loki’s lungs. A bright pink stripe blooms across his square butt, and Tony can’t resist petting it. He traces the line of it with his thumb and gives Loki a few spanks with his hand to cool him down. Then he rubs the strap into a spot just above the mark to let Loki know his ass is about to light up and Loki tenses this time, has a small measure of fear now that he knows what is coming. Tony laughs at that, because they’re just getting started.

“Breathe in.” he orders, and waits for Loki to hold it for a second. He raises the strap.

“Breathe out.” Tony says, and slams Loki hard in the meat of his ass. Loki yelps, arches away and then moans when the motion rubs his hard cock into the pillows. Tony runs his hand up Loki’s spine and back down, and follows the line of his ass to his sensitive, overused balls and swollen cock. Loki flinches at the touch to his testicles and moans. Tony was honestly going for his cock, wanted to give him some pleasure to balance out the glowing pain, but he can’t ignore that reaction. He digs his palm into Loki’s sack and eats up the near silent screaming gasp he makes. He rubs at Loki’s cock fast and firm, and listens to his cries morph from pain to surprise and pleasure. Then he starts flicking at the balls, whacking them in odd intervals and Loki makes one of his delicious breathy falsetto cries. He keeps going with that until he gets bored, and his hand comes away wet with precome.

“Didn’t know you like your balls tortured.” Tony murmurs, his voice low and threatening like it tends to get when Loki’s taking his strikes and making him burn inside.

“Ek veit eiga.” Loki whispers.

He’d never actually use a heavy tool like the strap on Loki’s tender organs, but he rubs it against his cock and balls purely for the threat. Loki has no way of knowing if it’s idle or if he’s about to be fucking brutalized, and he quivers, his voice shaking as he breaks and starts to beg properly. Oh, fuck, but Tony wants to do it now. He raises the strap and brings it down over the seat of Loki’s ass, above his balls but not on them, the inflexibility of the strap protecting his jewels. It’s a hair’s breadth though, and Tony doesn't blame him for flinching and crying out in fear before the strike even lands. It’s not really that bad of a hit, but the threat was the point, and it lands hard on Loki’s psyche. Full body tremors rack him, so Tony puts the strap aside and crawls up on the bed, lays his chest along Loki’s back and wraps his hands around a narrow belly.

“How was that, do you like me threatening your balls like that?” he asks.

“Nei.” Loki whispers, “Já. Ek veit eigi.”

“I’m not going to hit them with the strap, I’m just going to get close.” Tony tells him, giving Loki’s cock a gentle pull, and just barely cupping the tender skin behind it. “Would that be better? Would you like to take that for me?”

“J-Já.” Loki shudders, and rubs his ass into Tony’s tented trousers. Hissing in discomfort, he presses back harder and Tony feels Loki’s cock jump in his hand. He holds it tight. Jerks it rough, fast, and digs the fingers of his free hand into Loki’s ass. It’s radiating heat now, bright red wherever the strap has landed and pulsing with his heartbeat.

“Fuck yeah, you would.” Tony says, sitting back up, and getting them back in the mindset of the scene, “You would take anything for me, wouldn’t you?”

“Yes, Tony.” Loki gasps, thrusting into Tony’s hand and then rolling back to drag more hurt out of his welts.

“Lemme give you more, beautiful, you take it so well.” Tony says.

“No, no, please-” Loki begs, even as he raises his ass in the air.

“We both know you want it, there’s no need to be ashamed. You’re fucking gorgeous with my marks on you.” Tony growls, showering Loki’s thighs and the seat of his ass with light swats and slightly heavier spanks. Loki relaxes into his touch, his moans becoming more pronounced. His voice echoes off the corners of the room, longer and lower until he interrupts himself with surprised shrieks of agony.

“Mine.” Tony says harshly, his insides thrilling at the glazed look in Loki’s eyes and the beaming heat of his ass. He’s never affected another bed partner like this, never had this kind of complete trust with someone. The knowledge that he can hold nothing back, that he can be cruel, brutal even, and trust Loki to stop him if he goes too far. It’s exhilarating, terrifying, incredible. Loki is wrecked, barely able to breathe and practically gushing precome. Tony can tell he isn’t going to last much longer, so he picks up the strap and stands, loosens up his shoulder and does two practice swings that fly just past Loki’s ass and make him jump and shout like he’d actually taken a hit.

“Three more. Then we're done.” Tony tells him, “Count for me, darling.”

He doesn’t warn Loki this time. He’s a big boy, he can take it. Not to mention he is so far gone that he’s almost wordless, and Tony knows he’ll be euphoric after a few good impacts. Deep was his choice, so Tony will give him that. He lands the first in a slanted line across Loki’s right cheek and Loki howls.

“O-one.” he forces himself to say. It’s a good thing Tony gave him pillows, because he’s boneless after that. Placid, open, just waiting to take whatever Tony gives him. So fucking incredible. The second blow lands hard on Loki’s left thigh, and he screams dreadfully. He’s crying again, and that’s good, that’s what Loki needs before a pain scene can end. Catharsis, proof that he’s alive and he survived his own self destruction.

“Two.” Loki wails, “Please, please, no, no, no, please.”

“One more, Loki, you can do it.”

“No, no , no, please-” Loki can barely get the words out around his deep, dry sounding inhales. Tony has pity on him. He brings the last brutal smack down quickly, to the meat of his ass just over his balls. A final, deep layer of his composure breaks and Loki pours ugly tears into the sheets.

“Count it, Loki, I don’t want to repeat myself.” Tony says softly.

“Three, Tony.” Loki sobs, “Th-three."

Laying on the bed beside him, Tony pulls Loki off the pile of pillows and hugs him. Runs his hands gently over Loki’s body and wipes at his tears.

“So good, my good boy.” Tony whispers. Glancing down, he can see Loki’s come smeared over his stomach and the pillows. He’s not sure exactly when Loki came, but he’s glad. He doesn’t know how Loki can possibly take these vicious blows and turn them into ecstasy in his brain but he does, and it’s mystifying. Tony feels intoxicated after their sessions, more than any drug or alcohol he’s ever experienced, and he’s done them all.

It’s heady, the knowledge that only he can give Loki this, can care for him in this way. It makes it an almost sacred experience, this game they play where he rips Loki down to his core and watches him survive. Where Loki somehow rebuilds Tony along with himself every time. More courageous, more confident, more committed to giving Loki everything he needs, even pain and fear and oblivion. Loki’s breathing evens out while Tony holds him and pets his hair. He never remembers this part, but he’s convinced that it matters. Most of the mind is subconscious, just because Loki doesn’t remember doesn’t mean his mind isn’t healed by his touch. So he stays, every time, until Loki can form words again.

Loki lays flat on the bed after a while, and paws at Tony’s fly.

“Please, sir, may I suck your cock?” he asks with a blissed-out face, and Tony wouldn’t deny him anything in that voice, let alone a blowjob for his poor ignored dick.

“Yes you may.” Tony says, and he’s torn. Part of him wanting to utterly control the act, to hold Loki’s face into the mattress and thrust down his throat until he knows exactly who he belongs to. The other part wants to lay passively on his back and make his normally disobedient boy serve him with the complete abandon he’s only capable of in this bruised and beaten state.

One of the two Loki prefers by a lot, so Tony stands up and shucks off his clothing. He goes to the bathroom and wets a washcloth, grabs a bunch of tissues. He washes Loki up and holds the tissues to his nose and tells him to blow until his nose is open again. Tony doesn’t fancy suffocating his sub on his cock because his fucking nose is clogged.

Then he takes Loki’s face and turns it toward him, puts his whole weight into holding it right where he fucking wants it and gliding inside. Loki is dazed, buried in his own mind, so he’s just a hot hole with a wet tongue. Tony uses it, shoving in to the hilt and fucking it as rough as he can around Loki’s need for oxygen. It’s the most brutal, incredible feeling, and it only gets better as the act brings Loki slowly back to himself. He starts to suck and lick, and give Tony brave little drags of teeth on his shaft like most subs wouldn’t dare. It gets Tony off unexpectedly, and he comes down Loki’s throat with no warning. He doesn’t feel a shred of remorse either. Loki is his to use how he sees fit, and he moans in pleasure when Tony tells him so.

“Such a good fucking boy, taking everything. Everything.” Tony growls as Loki struggles to swallow, as his throat constricts and he runs out of air. Looks down at him in wonder while he just stays impaled on Tony’s cock and fucking waits for permission to breathe. Tony grabs him hard by the hair and holds him there a second longer, one more moment hung on a cable before the scene is over. A euphoric half-second where they are suspended and drilling into each other’s eyes.

“Mine.” he groans, and Loki’s eyes roll back. He pulls out and Loki coughs, gasps and croaks.

“Yours.” he promises, “Yours.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations for mobile users:  
> nei - no  
> standa - stop, wait, be still  
> Á sér sitja. - control yourself, be quiet  
> Þakka fyrir - please (formal)  
> fyrirgef mik - thank you (formal)  
> Láta sér líka - allow yourself to be satisfied, settle  
> þarf - it is necessary (verb)  
> Gør þú svá vel - please, as in making an offering. (can i make you feel good?)  
> Holr lófi - open palm  
> Já - yes  
> Ek veit eigi - I don't know
> 
> Kudos are welcome, comments are loved.


	2. Kink: Sparring, Breathplay, Rough Sex

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki wants to wrestle. Whether this is foreplay or mutiny remains to be seen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this was originally written for [Reparations](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15091862/chapters/34994054), and it's still kind of got a foot in both fics. I can't for the life of me make it totally line up with this story, but I would rather post it than keep it languishing. It's the same kinks, so I think it works pretty well as a follow up. You don’t need to read that to follow this. I hope you all like it. :)

At first Tony thinks Loki forgot their anniversary. It wouldn’t be the first time, and it wouldn’t be the last. Years go by with blistering speed these days, with four kids and three businesses to manage. But when he steps into their bedroom to find the furniture shoved into the corners and a large exercise mat with a wrestling ring on it, he figures Loki remembered just fine.

Eyeing Loki’s tape wrapped wrists and black compression shorts, he steps into the ring and asks the obligatory question.

“What is this?”

“What does it look like?” Loki replies with faux-innocence.

“Uh, Million Dollar Baby?”

Frowning slightly, his partner stands and dusts off his hands.

“I thought Hunger Games.” he says, pausing for effect. “The first one, I mean, with the training segment.”

“You wanna fight me?”

“I want to conquer you.” Loki boasts. Wispy magic crawls up Tony’s body, stripping him to his boxer briefs. Cheeky bastard.

“No magic.”

Loki cracks his knuckles. “No knees or elbows, I’ve seen your idea of honorable combat.”

“You sure you want to do this?”

“Positive.” Loki takes a swing at Tony’s head that’s close enough to rustle his hair. He dodges. Unbalanced from the recoil, he tries to grab Loki’s arm and the squirrely punk slips free.

“You break my nose and we’re gonna have a real fight.” Tony warns, setting up his guard. Loki laughs like the threat makes him want to do it more. It probably does. Risk addiction and all that.

“I would fix you right away.” Loki promises, voice sweet as he takes another swing.

This time he manages to get a lock on Loki’s elbow, twisting it behind his back. He inhales sharply at the twinge of his joints.

“Slaps only or we’re done.”

“I’m only playing.” Loki huffs.

“And I’m telling you the game. Nothing that would need a spell to heal.”

“Yes, alright.” Loki sighs, finally tapping out.

Tony shakes out his hands and hops on his toes to get the feel of moving. Loki ties up his hair. The atmosphere shifts once they’re both ready, and they settle into their stances.

Loki steps right, and he matches. Tunnel vision feels like any other fight, but this time his focus is trained on Loki’s outstretched hands and his shuffling steps.

Air shifts and he braces for impact. Loki slips inside his guard and gets him around the neck. Pulling down hard, he matches the clinch with his own neck grab and then it's his strength against Loki's. As the shorter guy, it’s not where he wants to be. A heel kicks into his knee and that's it, he's on the mat.

The landing is messy, a mad scramble of limbs where Loki lands off balance. Skin slaps against skin. It's matter of reflex to throw up his hips and roll them over, to put a hand to Loki's neck and push. A harsh slap blurs his vision. The world rocks. He's still got his arm under Loki's neck, so he fights to get his other hand around and squeezes.

Maintaining the stranglehold, he plants his feet and leans in, pulling an appreciative noise out of Loki that has no place in a battle. There's a bulge growing in his shorts that Tony has come to expectfrom these encounters, so it's with a certain smugness that he bites Loki's ear and rocks their hips together. Loki thrashes, teeth bared in something caught between a snarl and smile. Tony waits, constricting his neck and watching his face turn pink as he refuses to tap out.

"You're not doing so great. Is this one of those games where it's always my turn?"

Loki worms his hand inside the choke, and the next thing Tony knows he's got a pair of surprisingly strong thighs hooked around his neck. Loki throws him to his back and lands with his hips on his shoulders.

"You will earn my deference, mortal." Loki pants, grinning down at him with a lightheaded leer.

"I think I'm good where I am." Tony quips, because he has a face full of Loki’s junk and that’s never a problem for him. Loki grabs him by the chin.

“Your mouth will be the end of you someday.” Yanking his head up, Loki and grinds into his face. As if he needs to be coerced. Sucking that cock might as well be a hobby on his resumé.

Laving open mouthed kisses along the stretchy fabric, he splays his hands up Loki's back and pulls him closer. Kisses turn into licks and very quickly into suction. Loki shudders. Eyes sliding low, his attention waivers and Tony curls his legs around Loki's waist, heaving him face down and scrambling on his back.

It's a ride reminiscent of a mechanical bull, and he briefly imagines lassoing Loki like a cowboy. He doesn't know shit about ropes, but he's starting to think he should. Because damn, it would be nice to fuck him with both hands free. For now he sticks to what he knows, twisting those long arms behind Loki's back and sitting on his calves. He's pinned, every limb tied, and the exodus of tension is so pronounced Tony can actually feel it. Loki sags, slumping to the mat in a way that must tweak his shoulders.

“Someday.” Tony parrots. Hooking an elbow under Loki's chin, he plasters himself to his back and tugs his shorts off. The skin of Loki's back is sweaty, trembling from exertion and it gives Tony that snow globe feeling again. Like there’s something happening between them that is so unreasonably delicate. Loki’s secret gooey center drawn to the surface and exposed. He rolls his hips in an imitation of what’s to come and Loki whines, arches his back and matches his rhythm.

“But it looks like I won today.”

Loki rolls over and pulls him close. Each of their separate forces pushes and pulls the other into a perfect harmonic rhythm of soft sighs and deep groans, grinding and kissing until Tony feels like he’s floating. Pleasure zings up his spine as he thrusts into Loki’s heat. Adrenaline checked his arousal until now, but the contact has his cock twitching and filling out until it’s torture to be trapped in his underwear.

He tries to sit up, but Loki clamps his arms around his waist, lips hovering over the tender skin under his arm.

“Move, I want to get these off.”

Loki bites.

“Ow, fuck-” Tony hisses, grabbing Loki by the hair and yanking his head back. Of course that’s exactly what he wants, the psycho. He moans and jerks his hips, smiling like the spoiled kid he is.

“Fucking brat,” he laughs, smacking Loki on the thigh. “Can’t just have a good time can you? You gotta piss me off first.”

“Yes, Mister Stark.” Loki says, clawing at his shoulders and rutting even harder when he feels Tony respond. He puts a forearm over his throat. Loki tries to wiggle his knees over his shoulder again, but Tony knows better this time. Untangling fingers from messy hair, he holds Loki’s leg to the floor and puts his knee on the other one.

He’s out of hands after that, which is just typical because he wants nothing more than to have Loki spread and helpless while he stretches him open. Ropes, definitely ropes. Suddenly all those leather harnesses and cuffs make perfect sense and he wants to buy about five hundred pairs of each.

Pinching hard with his teeth, he gives Loki a taste of his own medicine. Loki kicks, feet slapping on the mat and eyes glassy as he chokes back a gasp. His cock is so hard it’s turning red, leaking freely on his stomach and Tony finds himself licking at the puffy red marks appearing on Loki’s neck. He lashes out, beating Tony’s back, but also squeezing his legs around his waist.

Here they are again, at the intersection of yes and no. Loki thrashes, he yelps, but there’s a steel rod poking him in the stomach and an upward tilt to his mouth like his dreams are coming true. So Tony claims him in the kind of kiss he never let himself have before Loki. The kind where he chews too hard and pushes too deep and keeps going, going, going until the body under him melts in surrender.

Loki’s arms stop hitting and start raking, drawing lines of _fuck yes please_ up his back and somehow the sting drags him up into a simpler frame of mind, a primal state where all his concerns level out in the instinctive balance of power, control, protection, need. The hands come to his hair, and he mirrors them, pressing Loki into the mat.

“Is this what you wanted, Slugger?” he pants, sucking Loki’s lips until they’re red and swollen and so goddamn pretty. Slick and shiny as rock candy. “Got this all set up just so i can remind you whose in charge?”

“Yessir.” Loki slurs, gasping when Tony lets him breath again.

“Spoiled pretty little-” he grunts, struggling with his own confining briefs. He’s a goddamn engineer but that basic scrap of cotton and elastic is like a brain teaser right now. It’s not Loki, or Loki’s lips or his legs or his eyes or his ass, so it’s incomprehensible. A goddamn supernatural mystery. “Always get what you want, don’t you?”

“Always.” Loki grins, all teeth and dark promise under sex drunk eyes. “My king, conquered. All mine.”

That sounds backwards, but it’s completely true. Loki’s got his reins, got him trained and addicted to this particular brand of crazy. Nails rake down his scalp and he puts a hand to Loki’s throat. The answering look is pure trust, breathless and wanting. Fucking crazy bastard, his Loki.

“Two taps means stop. And you better do it, I swear to god-”

“I will-” Loki gasps, chest heaving, “I will.”

Tony finds the oil with his other hand, and Loki lurches. That red mouth gapes open when he slides his finger inside, slow so they both feel the stretch. Loki wastes limited air moaning his name, and he wants to devour him whole, wants to possess every inch of skin and rewrite the pathways of his mind until there are little traces of him everywhere.

A push on the neck, a brush of his fingertips, and it’s like he can see Loki’s soul creeping out his mouth. He’s slipping away bit by bit, eyes hazy and ecstatic. Nobody loves a dangling precipice like him. Easing his grip, he allows Loki catch his breath and adds another finger, and then another. He doesn’t have any condoms but they’re both clean, and as far as he knows even Loki can’t grow a baby in his ass. The line of Tony’s cock along Loki’s seam makes him tremble and he rushes to pull his knees to his chest and offer himself. Arousal surges through Tony at the display, the hunger.

Loki’s ready for him, shiny with lube and quivering. For once he’s completely relaxed, muscles soft as putty. He trades his fingers for his cock and holds them on the brink until Loki whines.

“What’s your safeword?” he asks, a question ritualized to the point of being a turn on. A promise of illicit, unsafe things that they both want.

“Jotunheim.” Loki rasps. He grabs him by the leg and throws him face down with a smack of sweaty skin. Loki catches himself, arms bent by his head and Tony puts a hand to the back of his neck.

“Stay.” he orders. And immediately knows it's a mistake. While Loki had been eager to comply moments ago, the opportunity to be a shit snaps him right out of it. He tries to crawl away. Tony drags him back by the hips. If that’s how he wants to play it, then he can deal with the consequences. Spreading his cheeks, Tony drives in with one deep push. A bony elbow flies toward his face so he twists that into a bind too, holding it to the small of Loki’s back and quivering when Loki clenches around him.

The first thrusts are jarring, uncoordinated, but the moans tell him it’s good. Loki struggles and bucks, but it only makes the pleasure more consuming, interwoven with a heady rush of authority. Domination is a hell of a drug, like the most intense high rushing through his veins as he overpowers Loki’s struggling and pushes in to the hilt.

“Is this what you wanted, brat?” he asks again, because he likes making Loki say it. He likes the sheepish smile that slips out when Loki has to deny an obvious truth. Strings of alien words pour out his shiny lips, and he drives out and back in hard enough to send a clapping sound to the rafters.

“English, Loki. Isn’t this what you wanted?”

“Y-yes, Mister Stark-”

“Then speak. Show me some fucking enthusiasm.”

The hand on Loki’s throat walks up to his hair, and Loki mewls louder, angles his hips up.

“Hit me, please.” Loki says through clenched teeth. “Please, sir.”

“Nhm, good boy. Tell me how you want it.”

He has to let go of Loki’s arm to smack his ass, but the flush of red and the swallowed cry are more than worth it.

“H-Harder-” Loki gasps.

The sound of his hand clapping Loki bounces off the walls and his own arousal becomes a roar in his ears. The answering flinch is intoxicating, tight enough around his cock to steal his breath as he drives in.

“Say my name, say my fucking name-”

“H-Harder, Mister Stark.”

“Fuck, like that.” he pants, getting dizzy. Loki’s ass looks amazing split around his cock, shaking from the force of his thrusts and meeting him every time. He alternates slapping his ass and reaching around to jack him off, and Loki squeezes around him at every flash of sensation, good or bad.

He folds himself over Loki’s long body, wrapping his arms around his waist and his neck, holding tight and wanting him so much. Wanting to make Loki his, inside and out, in ways that can’t be erased. The thrusts turn slow and rough, his hand stroking Loki to his climax. It’s an easy release, like the last note in a song. Not at all what he expected, but Loki moans like it’s the best he’s ever had.

He’s still buried inside, his hindbrain begging him to get on with it, but Loki is dazed and pliant and he wants to savor him. Resting back on his heels, he pulls Loki up with him, holds him tight to his chest and sucks hickies into his shoulder blades. Feathering touches up his belly and over his nipples, he supports Loki while he floats.

Scratching through the wiry hair on his stomach and over the single freckle on his hip, he treasures his awkward, bony demigod in all his quirks. It’s like his sex drive has been rewired, totally changed from his younger days when he thought the pinnacle of beauty was a smokey eye and a bouncy pair of double Ds. Now nothing compares to these over-long limbs and this square, tight little butt because they’re parts of the most remarkable being he’s ever know. So many contradictions stuck together into one person. Wits, compassion and caustic, unmitigated bitterness.

“Thank you.” Loki breathes, holding Tony’s wrists and treating him to a deep, sensual rock of his hips.

Tony mimics it, caressing Loki inside and out. “What’s your color?”

Loki squeezes his hands, pulling his arms tighter.

“Thank you.” Loki slurs.

“Answer me.”

Loki shifts, works his ass into a shallow rhythm. “Want to...”

“Want to what? Use your words.”

“Want to serve you, sir.”

“Then get your ass to work.” he orders, low in his throat, and his pretty little god complies, his eager body working independent of a mind that’s a million miles away. Up and down in a steady beat, tired but trying his best.

“Arch your back, fuck that’s it. Faster...faster. Good boy.”

Loki lets out a one of his falsetto moans, high and through his nose.

“Yours.” he groans, and shit that word fucks him up. He loses himself, moving on pure instinct. Although he wanted Loki to do it himself, he can’t help plowing in and setting the pace. Passive isn’t his skill, even if the image of Loki whoring himself out for Tony’s pleasure has him steadily creeping toward the edge. He fucks him fast and shallow so he can see his hole opening for him, taking him down and pulling the pleasure out of him.

“That’s right, thats-” _ung_ “-so good. So good.”

“Yours, yours-” Loki says, like he’s a scratched record skipping on one word. Jerking him close, Tony loses his rhythm, rising to his knees and giving it to Loki without restraint. The total control warps his pleasure into something more, something dark and rich and all the more addictive because it’s freely given, a token of the hidden generosity Loki shows only to him.

Contact amplifies the caress of skin on vulnerable skin. It’s a mark in it’s own way, like the welts on his neck or the handprints on his ass. It’s base and primal and possessive as fuck, but spilling inside fills his mind with a chorus of _mine mine mine_. He stays buried as long as he can, as close as two people can get, and bites Loki’s back until it’s a canvas of toothy autographs.

Committing it all to memory, he runs his hands over protruding hip bones and adorable little nipples. Tastes the salt of his sweat and inhales his musky, radically un-human scent. Sucking at the bite marks, he inscribes Loki’s trembling gasp on the inside of his skull along with the awed pleasure sound of him licking Loki’s ear. And then, shortly after, he adds an addendum for the shy, embarrassed noise of him touching parts Loki doesn’t like about himself. His pointy elbows and scraggly chest hair, the barely noticeable belly fat born from a steady diet of stealing Tony’s food.

“Come to bed.” he says, exhausted.

Loki mumbles, curling up on the mats.

“Up. Come on.”

“Yours.” Loki shakes his head.

“You can be mine in bed.” he says, drained enough that just rolling Loki onto his back is a challenge. His partner clings.

"Please, Mister Stark." Loki whispers, kissing him. He picks him up and stumbles to bed, laying Loki down and abandoning any plans to clean up at the sound of his crying. It’s not sadness, not exclusively, but Loki is deep and emotions sometimes bubble up. Speech is beyond Loki, so Tony wraps him up and lays on him while he floats. Keeps him safe and restricted, sucking at his neck and nipples and anywhere else that makes him sigh and moan.

They both hate being still, and yet that’s what this is about. Trapped in the holding cell, they started weaving something between them, and all these years later he’s still searching for the threads. Trying to tie them in a way that will hold him and Loki together despite how life insists on pulling them apart. He coaxes another orgasm out of Loki just because he can and afterward his baby boy's eyes are more focused, his breathing less steady.

He seems dazed, poking absently at the spread of pulsing bite marks on his chest.

“How do you feel?” Tony asks, unsure himself. A little unnerved by Loki’s fussing. The blank stare, familiar as it is, doesn’t help. Loki summons a water bottle with magic and cracks open the lid. Sips.

“Was I good?” he asks, eventually.

“The best.” Tony blurts, distracted by Loki’s down turned lip, by the way he’s inspecting the damage with narrow eyes. “How do you feel?”

Loki grows horns and fumbles for Tony’s hand, presses it to his lines with an annoyed expression. Stops.

“Norns Tony, you really must stop with this guilt.” Loki rumbles low in his throat.

“Just making sure-” Tony says. “You weren’t talking so well by the end.”

“It was good, fool." Loki sighs, gulping down the rest of the water with a crack of plastic.

“Good.” Tony says, finding himself strangely complacent. Flush with success. He holds Loki close and does some euphoric floating of his own, enjoying the flurried mess of thoughts revolving around the words ‘we’ and ‘us’ and ‘good.’

“Good.” Loki agrees, eyes slipping shut in a doze.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos are welcome, comments are loved.


End file.
